


Turning Point

by IronShiba (wegglebots)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Edeleth, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, I just wanted to write them being dorks together, Moving In Together, Post-engagement Edeleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wegglebots/pseuds/IronShiba
Summary: Unpacking, doing chores, going to the grocery. The days are slow, but filled with a newfound warmth. It’s in the small moments that Byleth realizes that her life has hit a turning point.(Modern AU post-engagement Edeleth)
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 22
Kudos: 247





	Turning Point

Byleth unloads the last of her belongings from Edelgard’s car. She takes three medium-sized boxes. Hands Edelgard a slightly larger box with a small one perched atop it. Edelgard takes it in her arms.

Edelgard gets on her tiptoes, trying to see over Byleth’s shoulders. “Is this… everything?” she asks.

“What do you mean, short stuff?” teases Byleth.

Edelgard pouts. “Don’t even right now, By. Seriously, are these boxes everything?”

“Yes,” Byleth says, chuckling. “This is everything.” She looks at the five boxes in their arms. That was it, it seemed. All of Byleth’s earthly belongings, packed neatly into just five cardboard boxes.

They head towards the elevator. Press the button. Wait for the elevator to come. Byleth adjusts her hold of the boxes. Beside her, Edelgard does the same.

“What about the furniture you had back there?” asks Edelgard.

“Those weren’t mine,” Byleth says, shrugging. “No biggie.”

The elevator doors open with a ping. They step in. Edelgard balances the boxes on her hip. Pulls out her keycard and presses the button to the top floor. The elevator rumbles to life, climbing up to the penthouse unit.

“That’s too bad, I quite liked your old couch,” Edelgard says, breaking the silence.

“That couch was ugly though.”

“Yeah… but there was, you know,” Edelgard blushes. “… sentimental value.”

“Sentimental value?” asks Byleth, tilting her head to the side.

The question goes unanswered. The elevator stops with a small jolt and the doors slide open. Standing before them is a tall, gaunt man.

“Oh, good afternoon Miss Hresvelg and… Miss Hresvelg.” He chuckles. He holds the elevator doors open, moving to the side and gesturing for them to walk on out.

“Hubert,” says Edelgard curtly, stepping out. Byleth follows suit. “What brings you here? It’s your day off, is it not?”

“Yes,” says Hubert, “but Ferdinand insisted that I drop by to give you a housewarming gift.” He points to a small potted plant by their door. “I was going to just leave it there and send you a text.”

“Aren’t housewarming gifts for when you move into a new house?” Byleth asks.

Edelgard fumbles with the keys in her hand. Slides the right one in the door. It opens with a click.

“Well yes,” Hubert says, laughing, “but Ferdinand _insisted_.”

“Are you going to _insist_ that I do weird things too, Edelgard?” Byleth asks.

Edelgard laughs. “I’m surprised you haven’t realized that I already do that.”

They step inside. Byleth has been in Edelgard’s penthouse condo unit countless times by now, but somehow this time feels different. It feels new.

The condo is wide and spacious, decorated with fine furniture straight out of a showroom. Dark wood furniture. Warm white lights that you turn on with an app on your phone. Shaggy white carpets that look impossible to clean. An incredibly large TV. A large balcony overlooking the city. Nothing less for the young CEO.

“I will be on my way now, Miss Hresvelgs,” says Hubert, with a wave of the hand.

“Oh, okay,” says Edelgard, “tell Ferdinand we said ‘thank you.’”

“Bye Hubert,” says Byleth.

“Very well,” Hubert says, bowing slightly. He closes the door behind him, leaving the potted plant at their entryway.

Edelgard places the boxes on top of her granite counter top. She sets to opening them up. Byleth moves to do the same. Edelgard opens the smallest box. A few souvenir statuettes. A medal from a weightlifting competition. Byleth’s favorite mug.

Edelgard picks up the mug, holds it carefully. In her hands, Byleth could see the glint of the engagement ring on Edelgard’s finger. Byleth’s insides feel warmer. Her lungs seem to press against her ribs. Her heart races. The ring looks perfect on Edelgard, she thinks.

“You really like this mug, huh By?” says Edelgard, examining the mug fondly. It’s a plain, black mug. On the side is a picture of a fish, with the caption “Gone Fishing” underneath it.

“You gave me that mug when you were still my student,” says Byleth. She smiles fondly at the memory.

It was Edelgard’s last year in college when she had gifted the mug. She had turned up at Byleth’s doorstep, late at night, huffing. She stammered her way through a birthday greeting, shoved the gift into Byleth’s hands.

“I was an assistant lecturer then,” Byleth says, grinning. “Now look at us, five years later.”

Edelgard smiles. “Yes, who would have thought?”

“I remember,” says Byleth, stepping up close to Edelgard. She wraps her hands around the mug too. “I ended up just kissing you on the spot.”

Edelgard blushes. “You did.”

Byleth gasps. “ _That’s_ what you mean by ‘sentimental value!’ We had sex on that couch that night.”

“Yes babe,” Edelgard says, roaring with laughter, “I’ll miss that stupid thing.”

“We can always make new memories on your couch,” Byleth says with a wink.

Edelgard presses her lips against Byleth’s. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry you,” she says.

_______

Byleth blinks, her eyelids heavy with sleep. She’s lying on the couch, Edelgard nuzzled against her. Edelgard seems to have lost the battle against sleep, her cheek pressed against Byleth’s right breast. Byleth had jokingly offered her breasts as a pillow, and Edelgard seemed to have regarded it as some kind of challenge. It’s cute, Byleth thinks. She tucks away a strand of hair on Edelgard’s face.

They had decided to binge watch some show on Netflix. Byleth wasn’t really paying attention. There seemed to be zombies. And Korean nobles. And some kind of plague? Byleth just wishes that the action was more to the point. She looks to the screen, another zombie gnawing on a character. Is that one an important character? Byleth can’t recall. She wishes Edelgard were awake so they could talk about it together.

Byleth looks up at the wall clock at the far end of Edelgard’s condo. 11:45 pm. It’s getting late, she realizes.

She moves, slowly, shifting her weight. Carefully, carefully, she manages to roll Edelgard onto the couch, off of her chest. Edelgard mumbles softly, still asleep. Byleth presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

From the bedroom, Byleth grabs a blanket, tosses it over Edelgard. She turns the television off. Puts their dirty dishes in the sink. She gives the condo a once over, checking if everything seems good for the night. With a nod, she heads to the entryway.

She puts on her shoes. Pats her pockets down to check if she’s missing anything. Her pockets are empty. She looks down, confused. She realizes she’s in her pajamas.

“Oh,” she says to herself, “I live here now.”

She takes her shoes off. She pads back to the kitchen, deciding to wash the dishes as silently as she could. On the drying rack, she sees a pair of mugs, hers and Edelgard’s. Byleth smiles fondly at them. Somehow, she thinks, her mug looks less lonely now that it has a companion.

_______

It’s the middle of the night. Byleth wakes up from a strange dream. She’s lying on her back on their shared bed, blinking at the dark ceiling. Her dream is a recurring one. In it, she and Edelgard are fighting some kind of war. The details are fuzzy. All she knows for sure is that Dream Edelgard had white hair for reasons that were incredibly sad. Byleth turns her head. Her Edelgard is right there, sleeping on her side, facing Byleth. Her Edelgard has brown hair. It’s somehow comforting, Byleth thinks.

She gets out of bed, slowly. Walks toward the desk in their room and takes a seat. She switches the table lamp on, directs the beam of light onto the desk’s surface. On the table is a cutting mat, a cutter, and squares of paper of different colors. Surrounding the squares are paper dragons, folded in varying degrees of complexity.

Dragons, like the one she and Dream Edelgard fought.

It’s weird, Byleth thinks. In her dreams, she and Dream Edelgard fought against people of the church, who were also members of the real-life church that’s a few blocks down the street from their building. Her Edelgard also dislikes the church people.

Byleth grabs a green piece of paper. Starts folding a small, intricate dragon. Wings outstretched, feet spread out.

“Folding dragons again, I see,” says Her Edelgard, leaning over her shoulder. She places her hands gently on Byleth’s shoulders. Her voice sounds thick with sleep. “Weird dream again?”

“Mhm,” says Byleth, hands deftly creasing the paper to make it look like the scaly ridge of a dragon’s back.

“What’s this one’s name? Does it have one yet?”

Byleth hums. “Flayn,” she decides. The Flayn in her dream isn’t actually a dragon, but somehow Byleth feels like she should be one.

“Flayn,” repeats Edelgard. “Oh! The small, shy girl. She’s nice.”

Byleth chuckles. “You’re small too.”

“You’re all just too tall,” Edelgard answers, huffing. “I like Flayn though. Does Dream Edelgard beat the shit out of her too?”

Byleth thinks about it for a moment. She’s had many versions of the same dream.

“It depends on what the board looks like,” she answers.

“Right,” says Edelgard. “The weird chess part of your dreams.”

Byleth nods.

Edelgard yawns. “Will you ever fold a dragon version of me?” she asks.

Byleth turns to look at Edelgard dead in the eye. Her expression is steely, stern.

“Never,” she says, voice firm. “You’re the emperor of Fodlan.”

“O-okay,” says Edelgard, surprised. She blinks a few times, regains her composure. She shakes her head.

“Then,” says Edelgard. She reaches a hand out toward Byleth. “As emperor, I’d like to command my future empress to come back to bed with me.”

Byleth sets the paper dragon aside. Clicks the lamp off. Standing, she takes Edelgard’s outstretched hand. She presses her lips softly against the palm of her hand. “Gladly, your majesty.”

_______

“El, I swear my hands are clean.”

“By, your hands will never be clean. Ever again.”

“It was just a bug babe.”

“You killed it with your bare hand. Open palm. _Splat._ Against the wall.”

“You asked me to kill the bug!”

“ _Not like that!_ ”

_______

It’s Sunday. The morning is nice and pleasant. Edelgard likes to do the laundry on Sunday mornings, Byleth learns. She wakes to the hum of the washing machine and dryer. She pads along the hallway, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She finds Edelgard in the utility closet. It never ceases to amaze Byleth how Edelgard’s condo is large enough to have its own utility closet.

The smell of fresh laundry fills Byleth’s lungs. The familiar scent of Edelgard’s favorite detergent. Edelgard is in the middle of loading the dryer, a second basket full of dried clothes placed on top of the machine.

“Good morning El,” she says, yawning.

“Good morning By,” answers Edelgard with a smile. She’s hunched over, clothes basket beside her, as she continues to stuff the dryer with damp clothes. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, it’s fine,” says Byleth. “How many loads?”

“When it was just me, just one to two on a weekly basis. But now… we’re looking at around three.”

“Many.”

“We wear a lot of clothes,” Edelgard says, chuckling. “I guess it’s a good thing that I quite enjoy this chore.”

Edelgard is in the middle of tossing in one of Byleth’s many hoodies when she stops, staring at the wet fabric. She looks wistful for a moment, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Something on your mind?” Byleth asks.

“Hmm?” goes Edelgard. “Well, I was just thinking. It’s not just my clothes now, huh?” She smiles wider at Byleth. There was something there that Byleth wasn’t quite fully understanding yet.

“It’s nothing big,” Edelgard adds. “Anyway, there’s some breakfast on the table for you.” She picks up the other basket, heavy with warm clothes fresh from the dryer. “I’ll just fold these real quick.”

Edelgard walks along to the bedroom, and Byleth makes her way to the dining table. On the table is a still warm plate of bacon and eggs, cooked a few degrees shy of “burnt.” On the counter, the coffee machine keeps a pot of freshly brewed coffee warm. Beside the machine, Byleth’s favorite mug, already set out with a teaspoon in it.

Byleth pours herself a cup. Adds a touch of creamer and sugar. Sure, Byleth thinks that Edelgard’s cooking isn’t quite… _the best_ , but at the very least, she knows how to brew a good coffee. Which isn’t saying a lot, Byleth realizes, since Edelgard uses a fancy coffee machine and fancy coffee beans to go with it.

Coffee in hand, Byleth takes a seat at the table. She makes quick work of the simple breakfast laid out before her. Like a flash. Inhaled. Gone. Nothing but traces of yolks and burnt bacon flakes left on the plate. Edelgard seems to severely underestimate Byleth’s ravenous appetite, but Byleth thinks she’ll make up for it at lunch time. She decides to check on Edelgard.

Still sipping away slowly at her coffee, she leans against the bedroom door frame. Watches as Edelgard nimbly folds their clothes. She quietly hums a song, absorbed in the task at hand.

There’s something about watching Edelgard fold Byleth’s clothing that just make her insides feel rumbly. Fingertips easing away creases. Hands deftly folding each item. Edelgard’s soft voice humming along. A pile of her clothes stacked neatly beside a stack of Edelgard’s. Waiting to be put away in the dresser. Their dresser.

The scene before her isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Nothing like a large gesture. Nothing like a major event. But all the same, Byleth’s chest somehow feels too small to hold the large feelings that seemed to grow within her with every passing second.

“Oh,” goes Edelgard, finally noticing Byleth. “You’re already done with breakfast. I knew it. I didn’t make enough.”

Byleth laughs. The new feelings in her chest seem to swirl around inside her. Warm, like good coffee on a Sunday morning. It feels nice, she thinks. She isn’t quite sure why, but it’s nice.

_______

Edelgard’s voice rings out from the bedroom. “By, did you wash… the uh, did you wash the thing?”

Byleth is lounging on the couch, channel surfing on the television. She shouts back. “What thing?”

“You know, The Thing!” says Edelgard, head peeking out of the doorway.

“Thing?”

“The Thing. You know. What we use when we…” Edelgard drifts off, blushing.

“Oh,” goes Byleth. “You mean the strap?”

The blush on Edelgard’s cheeks deepens. “Yes babe, the strap. Where is it?”

Byleth points to the balcony with her thumb. “When I washed it I hung it out to dry over there.”

Edelgard gapes in silent horror. She seems to want to say something. Many things. Too many things, actually. Byleth watches as she ultimately decides to say nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line. She turns to look to the balcony.

“Um, babe,” she says, “it’s not… there.”

“What do you mean it’s not there?” Byleth turns to look. “Oh,” she says, “it’s not there.”

On the balcony is a small clothes drying rack that Edelgard seems to use exclusively for items she doesn’t want to throw in the dryer. Upon that rack is a hanger with two clothespins, swaying lightly in the wind. Byleth could swear that’s where she left the strap, even chuckled at how it seemed to flap gloriously in the wind. In hindsight, she thinks, maybe it was too windy a day to hang something like that out.

Edelgard marches toward the balcony. Throws the sliding door open. She leans over the railing. Byleth gets up to join her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Edelgard curses under her breath. “It’s there, do you see it?” She points to a veranda below theirs, diagonal to the left. There, on the tiled floor of their neighbor’s balcony is the strap. It lies forlorn, vibrant purple and black a stark contrast against the pale white tiles. From this angle, Byleth thinks that it kind of looks flaccid, like it had been deflated somehow.

“It looks like it died,” Byleth deadpans.

“Babe, this isn’t the time for jokes,” Edelgard growls, lightly shoving Byleth’s shoulder. “I think that’s Sylvain’s unit.”

“Okay,” says Byleth. “I’ll go drop by and pick it up then.”

Edelgard turns around, quickly, swiveling on the heels of her feet. She looks a little dizzy from spinning so fast. There’s a wild look in her eyes.

“ _You can’t just do that babe_ ,” Edelgard says, exasperated.

“And why not?”

“Because it’s _fucking Sylvain_. He’ll never let it rest. He’ll tell every soul in the building. And he’ll be really _fucking weird about it, babe_.” Edelgard runs a hand through her hair, frustrated.

Byleth turns to look down at the strap, still lying inert on Sylvain’s veranda.

“That’s it,” says Edelgard. “We’re just going to have to kill Sylvain.”

“Babe, we can’t kill Sylvain.”

“Not with that attitude we can’t.”

_______

They ring the doorbell to Sylvain’s unit. They stand in the dim hallway, waiting. Edelgard seems to be on high alert. She looks up and down the hallway, jolting at every sound.

“If we cut his body up into really small parts, I think we can get away with it,” Edelgard says darkly.

“El, you sound like Hubert,” says Byleth, nervous.

Sylvain opens the door with a flourish, clad in nothing but a bathrobe. Byleth could tell that this man has no doubt practiced opening his door and leaning suggestively on the frame. She could already feel his weird energy radiating, wafting out like the suffocating smell of a dude wearing too much body spray. From the corner of her eye, she could see the furrow in Edelgard’s brow, the tensing of her jaw, the clenching of her fist. _Not good,_ thinks Byleth, _she’s on the verge of just kicking his dick off._

He smiles at the two, a knowing grin. “Oh,” he says, “why isn’t it the Hresvelgs.”

Byleth wonders three things. An impressive number of thoughts to have running all at once. One, she mulls, she and Edelgard are technically not married yet. Two, why are people assuming that she’s going to take Edelgard’s last name? And three, why did being referred to as a Hresvelg make her insides go fuzzy with electric warmth?

When Byleth snaps back to attention, she realizes that she had zoned out at the worst time.

Sylvain is slumped at their feet, clutching at his neck. He coughs and gasps for air, tossing and turning. Towering over him is Edelgard. One hand is still a raised fist. The other clutches the strap tightly.

“ _Choke on that, bitch_ ,” Edelgard hisses.

Sylvain struggles uselessly on the ground. Byleth just watches. She decides that there’s nothing she can do to help anymore.

From inside the unit, they hear the sound of a door opening.

“Syl, what’s going on?” says a blond woman, walking into view. She makes eye contact with Edelgard. Freezes. She, too, is clad in nothing but a bathrobe.

“Aren’t you Ingrid, Edelgard’s secretary?” Byleth calmly asks, as if there wasn’t a man gasping for air at her feet.

Ingrid nods. She looks mortified. Like a deer caught in the headlights. She seems to try to cover herself more with her bathrobe. The gears in Byleth’s head click.

“Oh,” goes Byleth, “you guys are sleeping together.”

Ingrid blushes furiously. She opens her mouth to speak. Closes it again. She looks about ready to jump off of the balcony in an attempt to flee.

A devilish grin settles on Edelgard’s face. She holds the strap up, using it to point at Ingrid.

“If anyone finds out about this, everyone will also find out about _that_ ,” Edelgard says, pointing to Sylvain. Her voice is commanding. Byleth thinks her very bones are rattling.

“Y-yes, Miss Hresvelg,” says Ingrid, nodding.

“Good,” says Edelgard. She turns to walk away. Byleth follows suit.

They get into the elevator, silent. Byleth finds herself staring at her fiance. She can’t quite explain it, but she thinks that there’s something about the display that makes Byleth feel warm. Edelgard seems so reliable. So strong. So forceful. Byleth swallows, hard.

“Fuck me,” she says.

“E-excuse me?” says Edelgard, caught off guard.

_______

“You have so many paper dragons now, By.”

“Hmm. I think I’m done with making them now.”

“Oh? But this one doesn’t look done yet. It’s kind of lopsided.”

“I’m bored of making them El. I think I got frustrated and crumpled that last one a bit.”

“I see. Well we can find a place to put these, I suppose. Does the last one have a name?”

“This one can be Pastor Rhea. Since you don’t like Rhea.”

“Let’s set it on fire.”

_______

Byleth flips through the magazine that Edelgard had given her, not really focusing on any of the pages. Articles about the best cocktails to serve at the reception. Photo spreads of the latest in wedding fashion. Feature pieces about ideal ceremony venues.

A weird, buzzing sensation seems to settle into Byleth’s veins. She feels like she’s going to explode into confetti if she lingers on any one page for too long. She can imagine herself and Edelgard taking the places of the models. Them, smiling brightly. Them, walking down the aisle. Them, making their vows.

Byleth slams the magazine shut.

“You ready to pick a color scheme, By?” asks Edelgard, as she flips through her own magazine. Hers looks well read. Annotated, even. Every now and then, Edelgard would stick a little sticky tab on the top of the page to mark it.

They’re seated at the dining table, surrounded by magazines, articles, card samples, and cloth swatches. Byleth feels an odd bubbling sensation at the pit of her stomach. She does her best to ignore how she feels like running into the night screaming. She rubs the back of her head.

“Maybe red? You like red.”

Edelgard chuckles, looking up from her magazine. “Well, it’s _our_ wedding, so I’m assuming we should choose something we both like.”

_Our wedding._ The words seem to echo in Byleth’s head. She feels like she’s floating. Like everything’s an incredibly realistic dream. Edelgard reaches out, gingerly holds Byleth’s hand. She’s smiling, softly. There’s a glint to her eyes. Wistful. Loving. Byleth realizes that she’s probably staring back at Edelgard with a similar expression.

“Sorry,” says Edelgard, a light blush dusting her cheeks, “I’m just… excited, you know?”

_Excited_. Byleth’s stomach seems to rumble. She thinks it means she probably agrees. So she nods. Leans forward to press a kiss against Edelgard’s lips.

_______

“Byleth, leave the extra bags, you might drop them.” Edelgard’s voice echoes in the building’s basement parking.

“Babe, we will make it in one trip or die trying.” The grocery bags in Byleth’s hands rustle. In each hand, two plastic bags heavy with their purchases. Her fingertips were already beginning to ache. Their parking slot is near enough to the elevator. They can make it, thinks Byleth. If they hustle they can make it.

Edelgard looks at Byleth, long and hard. She pinches the bridge of her nose with a free hand. Exhales deeply.

“Fine,” she says, reaching into the trunk to gather all the remaining grocery bags and places it at her feet. Six bags in all. She closes the trunk of their car. Locks the doors. Byleth moves to take some of the extra bags. Edelgard swats her hand away, shaking her head. There’s a look in Edelgard’s eyes that seems to be burning with determination.

Edelgard inhales deeply. She takes all the bags, distributing them in each hand as best she can. She picks them up. They look ridiculously heavy. Edelgard quickly makes her way towards the elevator, half walking and half running, wobbling dangerously with each step. Byleth stands still, in awe. Edelgard makes it to the basement elevator. She tries to reach up to press the button. Fails. She turns to look impatiently at Byleth.

“ _Babe c’mon press the button these are heavy and I’m actually going to die if you don’t hurry._ ” Edelgard huffs, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

Byleth laughs. She strides forward, the groceries in her hands suddenly so much lighter.

_______

It’s a quiet evening. They’re lounging by the couch, Byleth absorbed in the game on her Switch and Edelgard busying herself with sketching on her tablet. From Byleth’s angle, she could see that Edelgard was drawing Byleth, seemingly in the middle of a workout.

“El, why are you drawing me all the time?” Byleth asks.

“Because I love you,” answers Edelgard without missing a beat.

“Oh. Good answer. I love you too.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” says Byleth. An odd feeling seems to tug at her. Things she cannot put to words. Things that seem to just simmer away within her.

There’s a pause, the two just enjoying their company in silence. Byleth catches fish to give to the owl in her game. Edelgard curses under her breath as she realizes she’s been doing the line art over the sketch layer.

After a while, Byleth speaks up again.

“I thought that when we got engaged things would be different. But everything’s the same. Kind of different, but mostly the same.”

Edelgard looks up from her tablet long enough to answer. “Isn’t that what makes it so beautiful?” she says.

She’s overcome by a feeling she doesn’t quite fully understand.

“I see,” is all Byleth says.

What had she expected?

There was just something so simple, so plain about what was unfolding before her eyes. Her life had changed completely yet at the same time it was as normal as it could ever be. Tender, soft, quiet. The steady rhythm of a heartbeat. The even draws of breath.

Byleth continues to watch Edelgard draw. Slow, deft strokes. The engagement ring catching the light from the lamp beside her. The slight furrow in Edelgard’s brow. The way she seems so focused and yet so relaxed. Byleth feels like she does when she drinks warm milk. Content.

She looks around the apartment they now share. Upon the walls were pictures of them, Edelgard’s reserved smiles and Byleth’s wild ones. Edelgard had cleared a bit of space on one of the shelves near the television to make room for Byleth’s growing collection of paper dragons. Byleth’s clothes were put away in their shared closet. Her favorite mug was washed, dripping away on the dish rack.

The more she looked, the more difficult it became to see where she ended and Edelgard began. The more difficult to discern what was Byleth’s and what was Edelgard’s. These are their things. Souvenirs placed on shelves, plates drying on the dish rack, cluttered items on tables. These are their memories. Folded within their clothes, displayed on the walls, tucked away in cabinets. It was as if everything they are was mixed together, blended seamlessly.

This is her life now, she realizes. Quiet nights in Edelgard’s embrace. Days spent idling along. No rush, no worry. They have each other. Tomorrow they will do the laundry. Next week they will shop for some new clothes. Next month they will meet with the wedding planner. Next year they will marry.

“Wow,” says Byleth, barely a whisper, “we’re family now.”

It dawns on her that this is the turning point of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to write some Modern AU to keep things fresh lol
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed. :)
> 
> I do want to write a gym AU after I finish Slow Burning hehe.
> 
> Come shout at me via @IronShiba on twitter!


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